Etheral
by Flywey
Summary: Be warned : Contains spoilers of the Thor 2 movie ! What if Loki, instead of Jane, inherit the power of the Ether ? Is he going to use it to finally achieve his domination on Asgard ? Or will it bring him more problems that he initially thought ? Mostly Loki POV. Rated T for now, may be some Bromance later if you want to :)
1. Prologue

_Hello everyone :) This is my very first fanfiction, so please be gentle with me :3 Anyway, English is not my main language at all, and I have no beta reader so, if you see something strange, you can tell me._

_Warning : This story is based on the Thor 2 movie, released today in France. It will contain spoilers, so read carefully. However I am not following the exact story, nor did I write the same conversations. No interest in that._

_Please, tell me what you think about it :) Have a nice read._

**Etheral**

**Prologue**

-Am I going to rot in prison, while he, this mindless brute, will prosper and become king ?

-Yes. You had this coming. Now you have to face your responsabilities once and for all. No surprise, I assume.

The All Father stood gloriously, leaning on his trustworthy Gungir. No trace of love or forgivness in his so cold gaze. It was too late for that. There was nothing left in his heart for the vile creature chained before him, at the feet of his throne. This _mistake_ he should have take care of so long ago. Only the presence of his Queen to his right, discreet but tense, prevented him to end the life of his... of this monster right there and then. So much suffering for the Realms he had claimed to protect for so long. So much pain because of the twisted mongrel's hunger of power and his own lack of seeing. He made a vague gesture with his hand.

-Take him down to the cells. So be it...

-...I... I'm not...

Before he could add something else, the two guards holding his chains clasped roughly their hands on his armoured shoulders and drag him backwards. He struggled a bit, willing to retort something smart before leaving the throne room, to prove that his so-called _Father_ had not won this battle. But nothing came to his mind. During his journey with Thor via the Bifrost to come home after the New York incident, he had imagined all the possible ways the conversation with the All Father could have followed. Never did he think that he would be rendered speechless. Him, the Silvertongue and Wordcrafter. As he was lead through the golden palace, ignoring the questionning or contemptuous looks of the other Asgardians, he tried to keep his composure. Maybe there was still a slight chance that Thor appeared right in front of him, gave him a good punch across the face, then dismissed the guards and unlocked the chains, telling him that he should behave the next time. Or for Frigga to come, and free him, having told his husband how rude he has been with his last _son_.

Nothing of this happened. Once in the dungeon, beyond the heavy engraved doors, he was silently stripped of his armour, the Asgardian guards tearing the fabric apart with obvious pleasure. Loki tried to ignore their rough gesture and the way they hit every spot in his back and sides where the green Beast had... well, no need to add further shame by reliving the past. Left only in his green tunic, matching pants and his leather boots, he was then pushed through the dark corridors and finally the guards made him stumble in the last cell at the far end. When the magic walls of his cell closed around him, all he could do was stare blankly as the two warriors disappeared without a last look to their former prince. King. But he did hear them speaking about him, mocking his behaviour, calling him a disgrace to their kingdom and praying the All Father will change his mind and end his miserable life. He shrugged, a sad smile tugging at his lips. Why did he keep hoping ? Who was he trying to fool this time ? He walked towards the only solid wall of the bare room and slid against it. Sitting cross legged, he took a look to his surroundings. Must at least get fastly accustomed to the place, since he was going to spend the rest of his immortal - so far - dull life.

Various creatures occupied the other cells around him, seemingly paying him no attention. Horned demons, fire Djinns, some Frost Giants, gigantic beasts... Only monsters it seems. He chuckled darkly. He was no exception. At least, he was alone in his cell. Maybe his _Father _was worried that he could slaughtered coldly the poor creatures which could be in contact with him. He rubbed the raw skin under the shakles still clasped on his bony wrists. He mentally wondered about their uselfulness. His cell was probably encircled with glyphs or runes able to annihilate even the smallest of his powers. And what damage could he do with his bare hands against a magic barrier ? Granted, he had always found a solution to sneak away from the most deadly problems he could have encountered. Even with Thanos... But this time however, he couldn't use his tongue to create a comfortable exit. Nobody was here to listen.

Time passed at an excruciating slow pace.

The first days, he walks around his cell like a tiger in cage, sometimes adressing sharply to the guards to gain their attention. Not once did they turn their heads towards him, nor did they aknowledge his presence. Soon, he became restless, pacing back and forth, thinking about getting mad so he could escape once and for all in his mental palace where no one would ever deceived him. But even this exit was denied to him apparently. Oh, how he had loved to stay in a closed room for days long when he was younger, reading and practicing magic without anyone to notice or mock him. What a laughable turn of event...

Later, he sat unmoving for days, gaze unfocussed, trying to lose himself in thoughts. He didn't dare to let the sleep claim him though. No need to run towards the nightmares willingly. Every day, he refused the food that was brought to him by a blind and deaf servant, occasionnaly sipping a bit of water before hurling the glass at the wall with a snarl, causing the poor man to flee.

Time passed... And he was rotting here. First seething with anger, then slipping into loneliness. before finally sinking in fear...


	2. Chapter 1 : Never again

_Wooow... I am really overwhelmed by all the favs and the follows ! I know, all authors say that but it is really something amazing ! Thank you to all of you, guests, followers, reviewers etc ! _

_Here is another chapter. A little one... I'm sorry if it is not really interesting, but I want to take my time to develop the story. Next time, Loki will be certainly a lot more talkative :)_

_Once again : may contain spoilers of Thor 2 / sorry for the mistakes 'm not English !_

**Chapter 1 : Never again**

How many weeks have passed ? Maybe there are months now... Or worse... years. He couldn't tell. He has lost the tiny link he could still maintain with the reality sometimes ago. Maybe when all the cats in his brain started purring again... Annoying. Even the comings and goings or the relieves of the guards couldn't give him a clue about the time passing. The meals brought to him were not regular and he suspected his servant to forget him from time to time. Not that he cared, mind you. During all this time, tehere was just one event of significance for him. Once, just once, one of his _family _member came to visit him. One day when he was particularly angry and kept hurting himself by banging against the walls of his golden prison. At this time, he didn't care for the damages. All he wanted was to attract attention... make those pitiful creatures walking freely outside LOOK AT HIM ! In vain.

Electric pain shot through his arms, causing his body to convulse slightly and some old wounds to reopen, soaking his tunic with fresh blood. He gave a final blow to the wall, causing a wave of magic to run into its surface then took a few steps back, panting. Blood trickled along his chin and he wiped it angrily, fighting the urge to give up his composure and shout like a mad man. Of course, _she _had to choose this exact moment to appear in front of his cell, dismissing the guards and climbing the few steps to come closer. He felt her presence and immediatly straighten his back, before turning his head to look at her. Oh how he wished he could see rejection or fear or even disgust beneath those sea blue eyes, instead of this insufferable pain and love. How he wished he could hate her. He opened his mouth, wanting to make some snarky comment to drive her away.

-Don't, Loki. Right now, all you want to say is a lie. Please, don't bother. Not with me.

Well, that was to be expected. After so much deceiving from his part, how could anyone still want to trust what pass his lips ? He raised an eyebrow, challenging her to continue. Frigga took a deep breath and exhale loudly. Was she really quivering ? He felt a pang of guilt in his heart, but tried to ignore it. No heart... Monster... freak... focus damnit !

She waved a hand and, coming from the Void, several furnitures appeared in the cell. A bed, a chair, a table, a little shelf. Gold and green adorning their solid wood. Images of dozen of books flickered before his eyes before becoming tangible. Taken aback, he raised a hand and put it on the cover of one of the books, caressing its leather. This time, he can't slip behind his mask of indifference and his eyes widened. One question crossed his mind, one simple question, but burning him to the point of agony. He looked back to the godess... to his mother... and was surprised to see her smile. A sad smile, but a smile nonetheless.

-I think you could be more comfortable with someting familiar around. You're cruel, it's true. But some things, some behaviours are crueler. And I just can't ignore them. Don't make me regret overstepping Odin's authority. I can't stop wishing for you to come back, wherever you have gone.

That... was inexpected. He wanted to tell her that he was right here, but knew that won't be the truth. It had nothing to do with his physical proximity. He wanted to thank her, to tell him how much these gifts have warmed his frozen heart. But once again, he couldn't stutter a word. Instead, he let go of the book and moved forward, stopping only inches from the barrier. Just in front of her. The golden magic cast beautiful lights on her long hair, making it glow, and velvet lightnings seem to course through her blue dress. She was misplaced in this dungeon, among the dregs of the universe. She should go... but he didn't want to see her go. Not now...

She seemed to read his mind like an open book and reached a hand toward him. The magic wall didn't stop her at all, briefly parting to allow her to touch her broken son. Gracefully, she wiped away the remnants of dried blood on his chin and the strange wetness rolling along his cheeks. Then, she added her other hand, cupping his face and closing her eyes. He observed her, every part of her, wanting to memorize the smallest details. Because he knew. He knew that this was a farewell. She will never be allowed to come back for him. He gingerly put his hands on her wrists and gently squeezed, causing her to open her eyes again. He managed to form a little smile, then stepped backward, turning his back to her. No need to wallow in self pity. He heard her shift, unsure of what to do. Then, she was gone. Wihtout another word. But inside his head, he still heard the last message she engraved in his mind. He clenched his jaw, and balled his fists, his nails drawing blood.

It took him some times to get back his composure. But when he finally did, he silently swore one thing : never again will he let his feelings lead his actions. NEVER. AGAIN.


End file.
